


(Not So) Foreign

by Rainewritesfanfics



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Acting, Critique of Canon, Discussion of Racism, Established Relationship, F/M, Supportive Girlfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:07:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25110613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainewritesfanfics/pseuds/Rainewritesfanfics
Summary: Cecil is half-Japanese, though everyone seems to forget it. At some point he stopped fighting their assumptions and let himself fall into a role.Still, Haruka can see through his mask, and she’ll do whatever she can to make him happy.
Relationships: Aijima Cecil/Nanami Haruka
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	(Not So) Foreign

**Author's Note:**

> I got kind of fired up thinking about how Cecil is treated in Utapri. He’s always kind of the goofy foreigner, which is weird because he’s half-Japanese. Meanwhile, Camus is always perfect, despite not having the same connection to the culture. 
> 
> I tried to base this on feelings my mixed-race friends have expressed to me about their experiences, though I am not mixed race myself.

The light filtering in the window is starting to tilt toward dusk when Cecil hears a gentle knock at his door.

With a small frown, he tucks a ribbon into his book and slides it under a pile of scripts on his desk. “Come in!”

His frown immediately flips into a smile when he turns to see Haruka standing in the doorway. “My Princess!” He clambers to his feet and sweeps her into his arms in the space of a breath. “I missed you this morning! Did you have a good day?”

Haruka’s smile is smaller than his, but no less warm. “I did, thank you. The movie was fun, and lunch was delightful. Tomo-chan sent snacks, so there’s chocolate in the kitchen.”

Cecil laughs. “Poor Ren.”

Haruka stifles a giggle behind her hand, and Cecil’s heart skips a beat. “I brought him a biscuit instead.”

His nose scrunches and he pouts for effect. “Why does Ren get special treatment?”

Haruka’s lips pull into a tiny smirk as she pulls a pastry box from behind her back. “I picked out the chocolates for you.”

Cecil eagerly takes the offered box and samples one of the delectable toffee-filled squares. “Fantastic!”

Haruka’s smile widens. “I’m glad you like them.”

After setting the chocolates on his desk, Cecil flops back to sit on his bed, pulling Haruka into his lap as he goes. When she squeaks in surprise, he can’t suppress his grin. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Of course, and you’re welcome.” It takes a minute for Haruka to relax in his arms, but when she leans back against him, he gets a whiff of her sweet cherry shampoo.

Unable to resist, Cecil plants a kiss to the top of her head. He marvels at the feeling of her weight in his lap as much as the softness of her lips when they catch the underside of his jaw.

“How was your day?” she asks, twisting in his arms and kneeling on the edge of the bed. Her arms wrap around his shoulders, and his settle around her waist.

Her amber eyes sparkle in the evening light, and Cecil is reminded of the glittering jewelry his mother used to wear. He shakes off the memory as quickly as it had fluttered in.

He brings Haruka’s hand to his lips and kisses each knuckle. “Better now that you are with me.” He sighs again. “Camus and I were on a variety show today. I made a bit of a fool of myself.”

She frowns. “Oh?”

Cecil lets out a small, self-deprecating huff. “Indeed. It seems I need to brush up on my Japanese metaphors. Camus seems to be much more versed in your idioms.” 

Her frown deepens.

Now that they are face to face, Cecil can see a question written in the way her teeth catch her lower lip and in the flicker of something in her eyes.

“Haruka? Is something troubling you?”

Her head dips, and she won’t meet his eye now, though her hands are firm on his shoulders.

“Cecil-san...”

“Hm?”

“Why do you pretend?”

Cecil’s heart catches in his throat. His smile almost falters. “Pretend?” His stomach roils at how easily the acting comes, but his panic overcomes the discomfort. “What do you mean?”

“I know you are more fluent in Japanese than you pretend to be. I know you are probably more fluent than Camus-senpai. I’ve seen the books you read.”

Cecil blinks, but Haruka presses on. “Why do you let people think you’re ignorant to our culture?”

“Our culture,” he echoes. She’s right. Still, it’s the first time someone other than his mother has acknowledged it in earnest.

It would be easy to lie. It would be easy to keep pretending. But then Haruka takes his hand and brings it to her lips, and he knows that he has to tell her the truth.

His muse. His goddess. His love. 

They had promised not to keep secrets.

His eyes close and his head dips to rest on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Her fingers play with his hair as he gathers the words. Haruka is patient with him. She always is. He loves her all the more for it.

“It’s hard,” he admits. “It’s so hard to be mixed race. It’s so hard to not be enough of either of my cultures to make people happy.”

He bites his lip, looking uncharacteristically bitter in the dusk light. “When I study Japanese subjects, like flower-arranging or shogi, everyone seems to view me as a quirky foreigner who is delighted by the arts. As though it’s not my heritage, too.”

“That’s not fair,” Haruka says, looking as indignant as he feels.

“No, it’s not.” He leans back against the wall. “Especially when Camus is never seen that way. He’s European. Not Japanese at all. But just because I have darker skin, I’m the exotic one.”

Haruka is still wearing a small frown when she tilts his chin up to look into his eyes, but the expression carries an echo of sadness that he feels helpless to erase. “I’m sorry, Cecil-san.”

Cecil wraps one arm around her waist as they cuddle in the corner of the bed. “Back in Agnapolis, my uncles never approved of me being the heir to the throne. To them, I will never be worthy of the crown of Agna with an outsider as my mother.”

He can taste the bitterness on his tongue, wiping away the lingering toffee flavor. He’s almost startled when Haruka speaks.

“That’s how you ended up here, isn’t it?”

The ghost of a smile flickers on Cecil’s lips. He nods. “As a lost kitten until I found you and your music.”

Haruka’s brows emphasize her contemplative frown. “You were so serious when we first met on the island. Gentle, patient, and wise, but serious. What made you change that image?”

“Not all of it was pretend,” he says, poking her soft cheek. She startles, and the frown vanishes. “I was only 15 when we met. I still had plenty to learn, and I was truly cocky enough to think I could sing your songs best.”

He chuckles, stealing a kiss. “I was a young prince, free of my curse, ready to carry my princess off.” He can’t help thinking back to the day he first introduced himself to STARISH. “I was immature and headstrong. But I was also still hiding from my relatives. I couldn’t allow word to get back that I was going to take the throne, lest they hurt my father.”

“They would do that?” Haruka asks, looking horrified. 

“Haruka, they turned me into a cat...”

“Oh, that’s true.” Her frown deepens.

Cecil sighs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “From there, it became easier not to change how others perceived me. Being the silly, foreign prince was all too easy a role to play. It felt safer, in a way, to pretend. Though, my hiragana really did need work that first year,” he adds, grinning. 

The smile fades. 

“But you’re right, I am fluent in spoken Japanese. My mother taught my despite the disapproval of the court.” He sighs again. “Although in the beginning, it was still hard to live here. I think primarily in Agnacian, not Japanese. It took years for me to be able to just respond instead of translating in my head.”

Haruka considers this. “Sort of like how I studied English in school, but it will never be my native language.”

Cecil nods. “Sometimes, it’s annoying,” he admits. “I can convey myself more clearly in Agnacian, but I’m thousands of miles away from anyone who can speak it.” His shoulders droop. “So people just assume I am an idiot, like Camus always says.”

He looks ashamed for a moment when he admits, “At some point, I stopped fighting that assumption.”

Haruka is quiet as she rubs her fingers up his arms. They mull over his words in silence for a long minute. “Will you teach me?”

Cecil blinks slowly. “Teach you?”

“You’re my lover,” she says, blushing adorably despite the fact that this is well-established. “I want to get to know every side of you, Cecil-san.” She smiles, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “I’d love to practice Agnacian so you can have someone to speak to. I’ll study on my own, too!” Haruka adds quickly. “I know you’re busy, but I want to share this with you.”

A smile splits his face before she even finishes. He squeezes her to his chest as his eyes sparkle. “Thank you, My Princess. That would make me very happy.”

She giggles as his lips tickle her cheeks and neck. “Cecil-san!”

He grins. “I can’t wait to tell you all about my home. We have the prettiest tile work in the palace, and the food is so good. Not a fish in sight,” he adds, crinkling his nose.

Haruka smiles, watching his features light up. She wishes she had thought of this sooner, but better late than never.

He catches her soft smile, and he stops, blushing, in the middle of his explanation about how difficult it is to have a pet panther. “Haruka?”

“I love you,” she says, catching him off-guard.

His eyes sparkle in the lamplight when he relaxes and replies. “I love you, too.”


End file.
